Himitsu
by Houkanno Yuuhou
Summary: Short stories that reflect on small moments in time for 365 days of the year. There are four new drabbles, and the latter two won contests at the LJ Iyfanfic Challenge Community.
1. Gyakusetsu

Gyakusetsu/Paradox  


  
She shook her head, wiped the crust from her eyes, refocused, and  
shook her head again--one solid motion.  
  
"Unbelievable...." Her slim, calloused hand covered her mouth though  
she knew he could hear her. Walking lightly so he couldn't detect  
her, she grabbed her camera and snapped a picture.  
  
A set of angry amber eyes glared at her as soon as the click was heard.  
  
She raised her arms to her face defensively though not really  
scared--just embarrassed. "I…didn't know!"  
  
"Hanyou have feelings, too, you know!" he cried as he threw at her the  
book he had been reading.  



	2. Hanabira to Namida no Hitoshizuku

A little over a hundred words, but still short and to the point.

Hanabira to Namida no Hitoshizuku (Petals and Teardrops)

The tree stood as a reminder of life and death, in both of her lifetimes. It bore a scar five-hundred years deep that were tell-tale signs of her previous adventures. The scar served no purpose other than to bitterly remind her of the beautiful boy who had grown into a handsome man during her travels with him; the lover for whom she had pined and for whom she had also saved her precious…"first"…was no more. She was left a widow, and harsher yet, she was left a yearning virgin.

The blooming tree once bloomed with a promise of something wonderful. Now, it wore its many blossoms in contempt.

The pretty, hateful petals fell to the ground, mixing with what was left of her remaining tears until the difference between petal and teardrop were no longer visible.


	3. Oshoku

Rather longer than the rest, but once I got going, I couldn't stop. 

Oshoku (Corruption)

It started softly, easily mistaken for a small fly who perchance needed a rest after such great traveling, and its need was growing and growing as it moved across her delectable skin as if looking for a bead of sweat from which to take a drink--

No, no. It was just a hand. That ever-annoying, ever-loving…ever-lovable hand of his.

A sigh escaped her twitching lips, and a look of irritation laced with something more graced her features. She turned to glare at him…and then slowly realized that he was nowhere near her. No, in fact, he was more than several body lengths behind her and his attentions were elsewhere.

She had been…hallucinating?? Did she really miss the hentai's touch that much??

A hand smacked her buttocks rather roughly, and she turned around with an "A-ha!" but was greeted with a hand not unlike her own that held a huge fly.

"Gomen ne, Sango-chan. I thought you might not want this big bug on your behind," Kagome said as if answering a silent question.

It really was a fly?!

She dared to look at the hentai, and he flashed her that beautiful, seducing grin that made her weak-kneed and giggly--things she should never be but could not help being around that damn hentai.

'I think he has finally corrupted me.'


	4. Niou no Fushoku

Niou no Fushoku (The Smell of Decay)

Part 1

The air around him reeked with smell--that certain putrid tanginess that signifies flesh eating flesh, mixing as it rots. Warmth and repulsion flooded his senses, as there was no more pain to feel…the sensation of something tearing inside-out frightened him slightly until he remembered the maggots.

A hand absentmindedly scraped at his back, searching for something. He numbly remembered that it was his own.

The cursed object was still there, pulsating against his clammy skin. A bitter reminder. His life was not his own.

How could a hand belong, but a life…?

That smell. The smell of his own decay.


	5. Kekkan

Kekkan (Fault)

The night air was exceptionally chilly for November. Warmth was just a fleeting feeling during times like this, she dully noted while she rubbed her shivering arms vigorously to create some sort of pleasing friction. 

There was a small cough and whining sound from within her sleeping bag, and then tiny hands wormed their way through the bag to paw at her as if seeking some sort of comfort from the windy, dark terrors of the night. "Kaa-san," a boyish mouth murmured as it nuzzled the soft material.

Her heart leapt into her throat, and she held very still, unsure of how to handle the situation. She was still just a girl, after all, and she hadn't any time at all to adjust to being fifteen yet. Everything was still an awkward movement and an awkward moment with her, as she was still gathering her bearings. 

"Kaa-san," the voice murmured again, only with more urgency.

She hesitated still, bit her lip, closed her eyes--haphazard attempts to shake the lonely, pathetic voice from her head. What could she do? What should she do?

The little kitsune boy sniffled and clawed at her. "Kaa-san…Kaa-san."

Not so unlike her own frail voice after Papa had died unexpected. She had clung to her mother's weary frame for weeks on end, refusing to believe that he would never again come through the aging shouji after his long commute home and offer her some mochi. Nor would he and Jii-chan again fight the endless fight about why Papa had refused to become a kannushi. The tears felt as if they would never dry up, and maybe they still hadn't. How had Mama handled her?

Sometimes, she still found herself crying. What would Papa think to see his little girl now--Papa, who had wanted her to become a successful businesswoman like him, and she…she was now thrown into the life of a miko, closer to Jii-chan's profession.

Jii-chan was proud. Proud to have someone who shared his "spirituality," as he put it.

Why wasn't she so proud? 

Another cry for Kaa-san broke her from her thoughts.

What to do? What to do??

She was too young to become this boy's guardian! Hell, her own incompetence was proof that even she still needed a protector. After all, she was the genius who had broken the Shikon no Tama and had unwittingly set into place all of the discordances that had happened since its shattering.

And with that thought, she knew what to do.

She pulled the boy into her arms and rocked him, causing him to open his eyes and in confusion, whisper, "Kagome?"

She shushed him and replied, "Everything's fine, osanai-chan. Kaa-san is here. Go back to sleep." He snuggled into her warmth and sighed, even though he stayed awake.

What could she do? She had never had a chance to live a normal childhood, as Papa's death had shown her and now these set of events. There was nothing to miss; she had to grow up. Technically, she was his new "Kaa-san," as her own bitter memories had reminded her.

What else do you do when the blood of the child's parents is on your hands?


	6. Kago no Naka no Tori wa Itsu Itsu Deyaru

**kago no naka no tori wa itsu itsu deyaru? / When Does the Bird Inside the Cage Come Out?**

The summer breeze worked its way through every strand of her ebony hair and around every molecule of her pale peach skin, almost like some sweet, knowing kiss. Sadly, the wind was starting to become mildly chilly because of the sun's soon departure, and none of the earlier warmth was reaching her. 

She had settled herself atop the stairs to the pre-Edo shrine to watch dusk approach without all the encroaching skyscrapers and multi-floored houses that were common in her modern skyline. It was also an excuse for a moment to herself, to think, and to take a peek at the area that would one day become a part of her home. Time after time, she found herself thinking about how one day soon, her mother would plant a plum tree here, and one day, Souta would fall from his tricycle and chip his tooth over there; all of it had once seemed so trivial, but now she was amused and awed by irony of inevitability.

The voices from the village below drifted up to her ears; each voice playing a small aria to one big opera. Pleasant laughter sounded like the truest note rung from a set of chimes, and she smiled as it soothed her. How could she not be soothed by the merry sounds coming from Kaede's hut? The squeak of a clever yet foolish young kitsune, the shouts of murder from an irritated inu-hanyou, the reserved giggles from an old miko and a young houshi, and a titter from an emotionally-scarred yet physically strong taijiya--each one was a precious gift to her. What would she be doing right now if it weren't for their company?

Not the first time that had passed through her thoughts, nor would it be the last.   
Sure, she missed certain things about her era--hot baths on hand being the most important--but how could she ever give up the love radiating from those people, the ones dearest to her heart? Even this era had become so familiar to her that she often felt more at ease here than her own modern home.

A group of children from the village had gathered at the base of the shrine steps; each one took turns waving and calling up to her, and as one boy with eyes closed tightly sat in the middle of a circle of children clasping hands, she gasped aloud because she recognized the game.

_ "Kagome, Kagome, _

_When does the bird inside the cage come out? _

_At dawns and evenings. _

_Who is in front of the back where a crane and turtle slipped and fell?"_

The other children circled and circled as the lonely boy in the center licked his lips and bit his tongue, trying to achieve total concentration for his efforts, but in the end, he remained the oni in the middle.

Just how old was that blasted game anyway?

The game continued on, and she noticed that some children would look to her at the beginning of the verse with deliberate smiles plastered to their impish faces. After a short while, their chanting grew more and more tired, and they dispersed when their mothers called for them, so she was left to herself again.

Where did she belong?

A lackluster nail caught her attention; its cuticles marred with dirt and grime from helping in the rice patties. Ancient dirt on and beneath her fingers--ancient now and ancient in her time. Such a paradox to her agonized mind, but yet. . .yet strangely, she was so close. . .so close.

Soon, she would have an answer for the question that had plagued her mind the most. It was a feeling deep within her bones; something that bit at her, like a dog getting at the marrow of a beloved bone.

She could not keep herself from laughing maniacally at the irony of her own bizarre thought, and it was such a welcome, this laughter, because it had been too long. Regrettably, she couldn't remember the last time she had felt relief wash over her, bringing a newfound sense of hope with it.

"So, Kagome, when does the bird in the cage come out?" she asked herself, absentmindedly twirling a few strands of unwashed hair around her calloused index finger. "And when did it even go in?"

An irritated male voice that was all too familiar broke her concentration as he bellowed her name. "Kagome! Kaede-baaba has food for you! What in all the hells are you doing up there, dammit!!"

If this had been months earlier, she would have used "the word" the minute he had uttered "what" without a second thought, but she had grown a lot…perhaps in other more obvious ways, but mentally, she had matured way beyond other girls her age, she knew. Instead, she sighed inwardly, and flashed a smile that she knew damn well that he could see.

At least she wasn't pretending; she was honestly glad to see him.

Slowly, she made her way down the long flight of stone steps, and the wave of déjà vu was not lost on her. How many times had she dashed up and down these steps in her lifetime? How many times would she continue to do so? How would she have felt a year ago, knowing that she had traveled that same way centuries before? Just as now she was confused and awed by the situation, she knew that her younger self would have fainted from all this knowledge. These things were ordinary thoughts to her, these days.

And would wonders never cease! Here was her beloved inu-hanyou offering her a rare treat--a bright fanged grin returning her own brilliant smile!

He hooked his left arm around her right arm and muttered softly, "Come." Onward they walked to Kaede-bachan's pleasant little hut.

"Birds should be free," she said matter-of-factly; really talking to no one but herself, although her companion heard her anyway. "Not behind wooden bars but truly free to fly where their heart wills them." Then she paused in thought and then tentatively added, "Right?" The two oddly glowing eyes next to her peered at her in bewilderment, but he nodded, choosing to stay quiet for once.

Yes, birds should remain free, and here she was, a bird struggling to get out of the cage that the future had put her in. As long as she remained tied to modern rules, she would never be free to live as she desperately wanted to live.

They walked in blissful silence toward the lone hut, and the night air enveloped her with its chilly embrace. She was happy to be going inside. No matter how often she heard her friends complain of its cold wood floors, the hut would always flow with warmth and comfort for her as long as she could stay with those encased in the cozy space.

Off in the distance, a lonely sparrow shrilled, singing of its newfound freedom to everyone beneath the moonlit sky.


	7. Jitei

_Written, lovingly, with Kristine "Bachan" Batey's "Koinu-chan" in mind._

It was love at first sight.

Those ears...those adorable, pointed ears with their soft silvery hair...how they made the young girl inside squeal with unbridled delight.

If pressed to reveal the "why," she would be ashamed to disclose that those ears reminded her of an Akita her parents had owned when she was small. Her beloved, white "Koinu-chan."

How she loved to stroke his ears! To be rewarded with pleasant rumbling and a slight kick of his leg, along with a hint of red on his boyish cheeks....

Ah, yes...it also helped that he was kind to her daughter.


	8. Chouju to tomonau Sabishisa

_If this sounds similar to something you've written or read, it's because this idea isn't uncommon. I wrote this so long ago...and here I thought I was being original! I still like it though._

It just wasn't fair.

He'd already lived centuries without her, and here, in this time, he could go to her any time he so desired, but he was...unwilling.

So he waited with baited breath and watched jadedly as he, himself, came from the well house to get her younger, still sprightly self from her room.

So beautiful and so young to him as he was now. So aggravating and so mysterious to him as he was then. He hadn't yet learned how to appreciate her, and sometimes, he thought he still hadn't.

With another painfully long sigh, he left. It was too late for love now. For him, she'd been gone for too many years.


	9. Shogatsu Is For Family

_This won Moderator's Choice for the Livejournal Inuyasha Fanfic Challenge Community. The theme was "celebration." Inuyasha celebrates something of his own. _

He realized that she was speaking to him because her lips were moving in a wonderfully enticing way...and well, she was also looking rather pointedly at him. Oh, the hell if he could understand her anyway. He knew she was babbling something about the upcoming Shinnenkai celebration that her family's shrine was holding in honor of Shogatsu, but he was so involved with the movement of her mouth that he didn't bother to keep listening.

"Inuyasha! Are you listening??"

Uh oh. "Eh...." He tried frantically to remember what she had been telling him, and the only thing that seemed to stand out in his mind was that--

"No!" He watched as her smile turned into a frown, and she clenched her fists as if she was trying to calm herself. Oops! What could he say to make this better?? "You're leaving me?" Well, that didn't come out well....

She smiled widely as she took his hand in hers. "No, silly! It's a family holiday, and you are family, so you are coming!"

As they walked to the well, he could barely contain his heart in his chest. He was...family.

He didn't bother hiding his grin, hoping he always would be.


	10. Yukionna, the Woman Made From Snow

_This tied for 2nd Place (along with Kelly O'Connor!) at the Livejournal Inuyasha Fanfic Challenge Community. The theme was "snow," so I decided to weave the legend of Yuki-onna into my drabble._

Nestled in the warmth of her bed, away from the cold outside, she sighed and listened as the wind at her window howled, sounding eerily humanlike. She was reminded of one of Jii-chan's harmless legends...about a woman who was made of snow. Laughing nervously, she chided herself for being silly enough to believe in one of his stories and settled into a fitful sleep.

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She woke when she was no longer warm.

Her window was open, and her comforter, oddly, was dusted with snow.

The wind sounded so close now, and it was moaning with the force of a woman in anguish. She removed the comforter carefully as she rose from her bed and tip-toed to the icy windowpane. Fingering the soft flakes warily, she moved to close the window when something outside caught her gaze.

A pallid woman sauntered along the ground below, looking every bit as cold as the snow that surrounded her. If she'd ventured closer, even her icy eyelashes would have been white.

The white woman opened her mouth, but the steam that usually came forth from the warmth inside was missing.

Made from snow....

She crawled back into bed, now chilled to the bone.


End file.
